


Phone Tag

by Chloe_JK



Category: Nana
Genre: F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-03-03 17:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13345788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chloe_JK/pseuds/Chloe_JK
Summary: What if when Hachi got sick at her job, her boss called her emergency contact Junko instead of just letting her walk home by herself? The pregnancy reveal might have turned out entirely different. This is a short story told in a different character's perspective each chapter.





	1. Junko

**Author's Note:**

> While I have read the manga, I only just recently watched the anime with English dubs. So if there are any little details off, I'm sorry, although I did my best to remain as true to Ai Yazawa's characters as possible.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junko POV

Junko had been in the middle of composing an email on the school's computer when her phone rang. The first time, she let it got to voicemail without even looking to see who it was. She had good reason. A potential buyer had contacted her about one of her paintings from the group exhibit a few weeks ago. Sure, he was a doctor who probably didn't know the difference between primary and secondary colors and was only looking to spruce up his waiting room with cheap, student artwork, but Junko couldn't muster indignation. Her first sale of an artist was still her first sale. And she wanted her correspondence to be as professional as possible. But when the phone rang immediately again, Junko quit debating on the proper formal salutation and picked up her phone in resignation. She nearly put it back down when she saw Nana's name, but it was too late—her concentration had been broken.

Sighing heavily, she flipped open her phone. "Yes?"

"Excuse me, are you Junko Saotome?"

Junko blinked and pulled back her phone. It was definitely Nana's number, but the voice on the other end sounded distinctly motherly and middle aged. She put it back to her ear. "May I ask who's calling?"

"Of course. I'm Ayumi Mudo with the temp agency Nana Komatsu works through. She has you listed as her emergency contact?"

Junk pushed back in her chair, causing the steel feet to scrap loudly in the computer lab, garnishing the attention of the few other students who had come in between classes. "Is she okay?"

"Yes, I'm sorry dear. But she is feeling a bit under the weather—"

 _I'm fine, really!_ Nana's voice in the background insisted

"—and she got sick during work. Do you think you could come pick her up and make sure she gets home all right?"

Junko felt relieved at hearing Nana's voice in the background. She rested her head into her palm. If Nana was feeling fine enough to whine, she should be fine getting home by herself. But if her boss had called despite Nana's insistence…

"Yes that's fine, and, oh shoot!" Junko lifted her elbow, realizing she had set it down on the enter button on the keyboard. Her composition was nowhere in sight. She rolled her eyes and pressed the backspace button, waiting for her email to reappear. "Yes, sorry, I can pick her up. What's the address?"

_Tell Junie I'm fine and she shouldn't—_

"Now hush," Mrs. Mudo reprimanded Nana with all the sternness of a honeypot. "You really shouldn't be alone." She gave Junko the address and told Junko that she would make Nana wait in the pharmacy area of the store. "If you get some flu medication, I'm sure that would help," she told Nana in the background.

… _Maybe you're right._

Junko frowned. Nana had been so hell-bent and energetic on her insistence not to come, but now the muffled words she heard through the phone were flat and low - completely unlike the Nana she knew. Maybe she really was sick.

"I'll be there as soon as I can,. Thank you Mrs. Mudo," Junko said before she hung up the phone. But when she turned her attention back to the screen to finish up her email, she realized she had completely erased her message. Growling under her breath, causing the student next to her to scoot his chair further away from her, Junko gave up and stalked out the door. She sent a quick message to Kyosuke so he knew to go home without her.

 _She better be really sick,_ Junko thought as she kicked open the school building's door.

***

When Junko arrive at the supermarket twenty minutes later, she quickly found the pharmacy area tucked in the back corner of the store. Nana was nowhere in sight. Eyebrow twitching, Junko sent Nana a quick text.

_If you left the market when I left school to pick you up, I'll make sure you never have a Jackson burger again._

As soon as Junko snapped her phone shut, she took another look around the pharmacy area. There were only three aisles and the shelves were a little higher than Nana. Maybe she had crouched low to look at some medication labels? But a quick inspection proved that idea false, so Junko went up to the window in the back where a man in a white coat filled a prescription medication bottle.

"Excuse me," Junko asked. "Have you seen—Nana!"

Nana had just exited from the side door beside the pharmacy window —the bathroom. Junko was ready to lecture her (despite feeling slightly foolish that she hadn't thought to check the bathroom), when she truly looked at Nana's face. Her face was white, her eyes were wide, and her hair was sticking to her forehead in small clumps from sweat. Junko's shoulders slumped. Nana looked terrible.

She walked over to Nana and placed a hand on her back. "Do you need to go to a doctor?" Her art buyer actually didn't live too far away. If she took Nana there, she wouldn't even have to write that damn email.

Nana's face, if possible, went even whiter. Her eyes darted down to her hand, where she a held a shopping bag. Full of medicine, Junko presumed. "I think I want to go home right now," Nana said, her voice shaking. Then she had tried to smile and added, "I'm really sorry Mrs. Mudo called you. I would have been fine."

"Well, I'm here, so at least let me help you get home. Is Nana there? Will she be able to watch you? Or should I call Nobu?"

"No!" Nana cried out. Junko's eyes narrowed and Nana fluttered her hand in front her mouth, trying to backtrack. "I mean, no. Blast has rehearsals tonight."

"Okay… how about tomorrow?"

"I think both of them work. Moving company or something. I think." Nana's mind clearly wasn't focused on the conversation. When her eyes weren't staring in the distance, they sneaked glances to the shopping bag in her hand.

Junko was about to press for details when her phone rang. She held onto Nana's arm like a mother would a child as she flipped her phone open. Her lips curled in an exasperated half-smile at her boyfriend's message.

_Don't lecture her this time. Women deserve to be spoiled when they're sick. Men for that matter, too._

Remembering her disaster with the post-Shoji breakup (and the not too subtle reminder how she had left Kyosuke to fend for himself when he had gotten a cold during their midterm), Junko squared her shoulders fiercely. She would be nice even if it killed her.

"You're coming home with me," Junko demanded. Or, at least, as nice as Junko knew how to be. She reached for Nana's purse and shopping bag. "Here, let me carry—"

"No, I'm fine, really!" Nana practically pleaded, pulling the shopping bag away from Junko. "I shouldn't depend on you. I need to—"

"It's different when you're sick dummy," Junko said, strengthening her hold, not noticing the plastic bag's handles stretching dangerously thin. "Now just let me—"

"I can take care of my—"

The bag ripped open. Before Junko could break her promise to Kyosuke about not lecturing Nana, Nana gasped. And then Junko looked down to see the fallen cargo and made the same sound. It was a box with a picture of a white stick embellished with a plus and minus sign. The package had said two applicators, but the box was already open and only one had fallen out. Nana kneeled on the floor, practically shielding her fallen goods with her body.

"Nana?" Junko sputtered.

The kneeling girl burst into tears.


	2. Kyosuke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyosuke POV

“—And then the bag ripped, the stick fell out, and Nana hasn’t stopped crying since I brought her to our apartment.” Junko said, reiterating the same story for the third time since Kyosuke had answered his phone.

He nodded, still trying to wrap his head around it all. “Do you know if…?” 

“If she’s going to keep it?” There was a sharp noise - like a laugh or a dry sob. Probably a mixture of both giving Junko’s state. “I have no idea.”

Kyosuke was on the quad, having just finished with his last class of the day—art history. He liked that it was his final class of the week because it always centered his focus for his own creative work that weekend. But now, after hearing Junko speak in frantic whispers the last ten minutes, he had a feeling his oil painting this weekend was going to have a high-energy, anxious feel to them. Instead of the stone archway he had planned to paint, Kyosuke figured he should go to abandoned warehouse by Blast’s last concert gig. Sharp and jagged brushstrokes would suit that scene much better than his grandmother’s garden.

“Kyosuke!” Juko said, her voice snappish with an unspoken plea.

“Where is she now?” Kyosuke said, his voice calm although his footsteps had picked up. 

“The bathroom. When she hasn’t been crying, she’s been throwing up.”

“Should I pick anything up?

There was a grateful breath. “Grapefruit juice,” Junko said, gaining a bit more of her usual authority. “If it works for her hangovers, it should work for… well…” 

“Morning sickness?” Kyosuke finished as he finally exited the campus. He begin walking toward the train station. “We’ll find out. I’ll pick some up on the way home. And Junko?”

“Yeah?”

“It was very nice of you to bring to our home.”

“Shut up.” But Kyosuke heard the smile in her voice before she hung up the phone.

***

The three of them sat at the kitchen table. It was seven o’clock. It had taken Kyosuke a little longer to get back home due to a spur-of-the-moment stop he had made. Junko seemed a little pissed, but at least she didn’t say anything. Kyosuke set out the grapefruit juice, saltine crackers, and beer on the table and his schoolbag by his chair. When Nana had exited the bathroom, she had gulped down an entire glass of juice before she had to run back to the bathroom to throw it up. When she had finished retching, Kyosuke just calmly poured her another glass and gave the nail clenched Junko another beer, who had already chugged one can down when Nana was in the toilet. 

Nana’s face and eyes were puffy, which would have caused the normal Nana to fret at her less than attractive state. But at least she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t eating either. So when he returned the juice to the fridge, Kyosuke gave a shrug and helped himself to a sleeve of crackers.

By the time Junko finished her second beer, Nana had taken three sips of her juice. Junko went to the fridge to grab another can until Kyosuke gave her a look that said she might want to remain sober. She gave him a glare back, but grabbed a glass of water instead. When she sat back down, Kyosuke started on his second sleeve of crackers.

A few more minutes of awkward silence passed. Kyosuke had just grabbed another cracker and taken a bite when Junko finally exploded, “You’re getting crumbs everywhere!”

“I’m sorry!” Nana apologized before Kyosuke could even work up the effort to even think of saying the same thing. Her head bowed low and her hair covered her eyes, away from Junko’s twitching stare.

Junko started to clean Kyosuke’s crumbs even though he clearly wasn’t finished. “How could you be so… so…”

Kyosuke grabbed Junko’s hand, stopping her from sweeping the crumbs into the palm in her hand but also stopping her from starting another lecture. She harrumphed but dropped her hands back into her lap. Kyosuke turned to Nana and said gently, “Don’t apologize. We’re just worried about you.”

Nana brought her legs up to the chair to lean them against her chest. She looked young, like a child who knew she was about to be in serious trouble. Well, no. That wasn’t entirely true. There was too much self-hatred in her eyes to mistake her for a child. She nodded at his concerned words, but Kyosuke doubted that he had actually gotten through to her.

“You can tell us anything, Nana,” Junko said, measuring each word carefully as though she had to recite it five times in her head before she had the ability to say it out loud. “We care for you.”

Nana peeped her eyes up from her knee’s protective barrier. Kyosuke gave a smile and pushed the glass of grapefruit juice forward. She reached out to wrap her hand around the glass, but she didn’t lift it up to take a drink.

“If this… If this is real…” Nana started to say. But her eyes watered up and she retreated her head back into its cave.

Kyosuke gave Junko an even look. She stared heavenward for a second before she scooted her chair closer to Nana; then closer again when Kyosuke gave a little nod to keep going. He mimicked a motion of patting someone on the back, which Junko did, but not before giving Kyosuke the finger.  “Nana,” Junko said, her voice much softer than before, “Whether it’s real or not, we’re here for you. And no matter what you decide…we’ll support you.”

But the worry in Junko’s eyes betrayed her words. Kyosuke leaned back in his own chair, chewing on his cracker contemplatively. Junko obviously though it would be better if Nana decided on an abortion, what with her dependency issues, but Kyosuke wasn’t so sure. Nana seemed the type of girl who would be loaded with maternal instincts, and even though her selfish desire to be center of attention would probably never go away, he didn’t think for one moment that the child would be anything but loved. 

He glanced back over at Junko then, who seemed to be calculating numbers under her breath. She did the same thing whenever they went grocery shopping. She was probably estimating the amount of money Nana and Nobu had to the medical bills and child support that would have to be paid. Still, Kyosuke remained optimistic (although he was sure the number Junko calculated was dismal). People in much worse financial positions than Nana and Nobu have had kids and figured out how to support them. Kyosuke’s own mom had raised him on his own and he never remembered wanting for anything. 

“There’s public support programs out there,” Kyosuke said, pulling out from his school bag the second place he had stopped at besides the grocery store. He dropped down the pamphlets he had picked up at the free clinic. “If you fall within a certain income bracket, you and Nobu could receive the majority if not all your prenatal care for free.”

Junko slowly smiled. Not her normal smile, which was layered in exasperation or distraction, but the small curve of lips that softened her face and lightened her eyes. It was the same smile she had given him the first time he admitted that he was a practical romantic (in both art and life), which seconds later had led to their first kiss. It was his favorite smile, one that he drew constantly in his mind, but never on paper as it would remove the wonder of it all. Today had been a good day for it had been the second time she had smiled at him like that—the first was when an interested buyer had contacted her about one of her paintings. And while that smile had been tinged in pride for her own efforts, this one had been tinged in pride for his.

“Thanks,” Nana whispered. But she set her feet down and leaned away from Junko’s awkward hand. “But… once you know everything… you’ll hate me. You’ll wished you never said those things.”

Kyosuke set down his half-eaten package of crackers. This seemed to be a moment between women. He motioned to the living room outside the kitchen, silently asking Junko whether or not he should go. But Junko was too busy staring at Nana, her eyes scrunched up the same way they got when she sketched out her compositions—the physical evidence of her determination to put abstract shapes together. And the moment before Nana opened her mouth, something inside Junko seemed to click. Junko’s eyes close in sad, resignation, as if she already knew the words Nana’s voice cracked out.

“I don’t think it’s Nobu’s.”


	3. Takumi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takumi POV

**Two Days Later**

Takumi rang the doorbell seven times before he had finally concluded that Nana wasn’t there.

Damn that woman.

He didn’t have time for this. After their Trigger tour, Trapnest had produced so many interested sponsors that Takumi couldn’t even remember the last time he had eaten a meal that wasn’t flavored with the heavy aroma of product placements and sponsorships. He really should hire a new manager—their current one couldn’t even take two steps without asking Takumi what to do next. Sure—Takumi liked control; control was essential when your band was composed of people who thought maturity was optional. But was it really so much to ask to have a manager who could at least manage a dinner reservation without garnishing the attention of paparazzi? The flashbulbs in the window at supper had gone straight through his body, zapping him of his strength. He needed relief. He thought he had needed Nana, but another woman would do. He should just turn around and leave.

He slumped down to the floor beside Nana’s door instead. He had a lot of emails on his phone to go through, anyway.

While Takumi sorted and replied to emails where necessary (most of which were of course from his incompetent manager), his eyes kept darting down the hall every time he heard footsteps on the stairway. But they would always end before reaching the seventh floor.

When he got to the end of his messages, twenty minutes had passed and he couldn’t justify sitting on the hardwood floors, which were in desperate need of a refinish. Nana had really taken their spat too far; why did he even bother? She was little more than a groupie with her starstruck eyes, Trapnest poster, and fan club letters he had found underneath her bed when he had gone searching for his pants. But somehow, his finger found the doorbell again, ringing for the eighth time.

Nothing.

Unable to help himself, he kicked the bottom of the door before stalking away. As he went down the stairs, he flipped his phone open to Nana’s contact information. His finger hovered over the delete button by the time he reach the sixth floor landing. His finger was still hovering when he got to the first floor and then he ran straight into Nana.

Ren’s Nana.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Nana asked. She walked up the first few stairs to narrow her eyes down to his looming figure.

“Nana,” he nodded his head. He put his phone away and dug in his pocket for a much needed cigarette. “How are the rehearsals going?”

“Hachi broke up with you. You shouldn’t be here.”

He fumbled on his lighter. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she said, having the gall to flick his unlit cigarette from his fingers. He kept his features flat, despite wanting to exclaim incredulity on how Ren could fall in bed with such an awful woman. He stared her down, disdainfully categorizing her sharp, angular features to her brash and loud voice. Distasteful.

He smiled congenially as he withdrew another cigarette, this time keeping a firm grip on it as he lit it up. He took a long drag and evaluated the situation. Things were already messy enough without drawing in the punk queen. But she had said “broke up.” It should have been laughable, Nana breaking up with _him_. But he found himself asking, “She told you we broke up?”

Ridiculous. They weren’t even dating. He would at least admit he was unusually possessive of her, but that was only because of Blast’s guitarist and bass player—Nobu and the teenage gigolo. Still, he zeroed in on Nana’s lips, waiting for her reply.

She scoffed. “I heard her through the bedroom wall. Screaming at you to never call her again.”

The glowing ash on his cigarette grew as he felt became statuesque in shock. _That_ was Nana breaking up with him?

He figured she was just acting out, whining about not getting enough attention. All his girlfriends (for lack of a better term) experienced that at some point. But spats like that usually happened five or six times before Takumi would get annoyed enough to stop seeing them. But Nana… it was the first time she had ever sounded unhappy with him. Before, she said she understood. That she was a Trapnest fan before a Takumi fan. He felt foolish now, but he thought for some insane reason that it set her apart from all the other women. 

“It was just a misunderstanding,” Takumi said loftily, blowing a puff of smoke in the hallway. 

Nana crossed her arms and smirked. “Really? Then why does she have a new boyfriend?”

Despite his best effort, he slipped. He breathed in his drag too quickly and choked on it. He coughed while glaring at Nana. He wasn’t a fool; he knew it would be Nobu. And that pissed him off. It _really_ pissed him off. He walked out of the building, his rage thudding in his ears, drowning out whatever bitchy remark Nana had said at his departure.

***

When he got to his apartment, he had to keep his lips flat as the paparazzi’s flashbulbs blinked from his complex’s bushes. Great. Now he had the Nana mess _and_ a gate guard to yell at.

After properly putting the security officer in his place, Takumi was finally able to enter his private space and let out everything he had kept so carefully buried. He threw his keys and lighter across the room, barely notching how the jagged metal scratched up his leather sofa.

That bitch.

That complete bitch.

Not only did she not posses the common decency to end things properly, but she’d already latched on to that bastard Nobu. Takumi stripped off his shoes and stormed to his fridge, bypassing the beer and going straight for the spirits in his freezer. But his business practically took over, forcing him to fill a tumbler properly with ice rather than drinking it straight from the bottle. After all, he had a breakfast with their record company’s producer tomorrow morning.

He slumped on the couch, sipping on his drink, purposely counting to sixty seconds between swallows. A little fuzz on the edges would be fine, but anything more than that would be less than ideal. Eventually, the vodka did its job and his nerves began to settle. He brought out his phone (thankfully he hadn’t thrown that) and flipped it open. Nana’s contact information was still on the screen.

Just as he was ready to press the delete button and rid himself of her distraction forever, it started ringing. It was Nana.

His Nana.

He wanted to ignore it the way she had ignored his calls the last three weeks, but the sadist in him made him answer.

“Nana,” he started out, deceptively pleasant. “Your phone seems to be working again.”

He instantly wanted to punch the sofa. He was being catty. He was better than catty.

“Yes… I… I’m sorry.”

Her voice, soft and sweet and full of apology, made him soften like it always did. Clenching his drink, he looked down to remind himself what she had drove him to do.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice cool and professional. 

Better. Distant and aloof were definitely better.

He heard whispers in the background. It was another woman—not Ren’s Nana; he’d recognize that demon’s voice anywhere. It was someone else. Someone authoritative.

_Just ask him_.

“What?” he said once Nana and the background voice began a muffled argument. He set his drink on the coffee table, berating himself for answering the damned phone. “Just ask me what?”

“Do you love me?”

Her words are rushed and trip over each other. It reminded Takumi of the voice she had the first time he had spoken to her and eaten her tomatoes. His hand went to his forehead. Loved her? He barely knew her. He took a long drink, letting the burn fire him up. He practically growled, “You were suppose to be mine.”

_That’s not what she’s asking!_

“Be quiet Junie,” Nana said to the background. There are footsteps followed by the sound of a door being closed. “I’m sorry. She’s gone.”

“Why are you calling me now Nana?” Takumi asked, leaning back in the couch. His mind suddenly remembered what it felt like to have Nana’s fingers running through his hair and scalp. They had been soothing and sensual and almost reverent. He had longed for that touch tonight, after an endless day of micromanaging. But then, he imagined her using her fingers and stroking Nobu instead. “Wouldn’t Nobu oppose to this conversation?”

A sharp intake of breath echoed through the phone. But although Nana’s voice had gone even more shaky and soft, she resolutely asked again, “Do you love me?”

Takumi wanted to lie. He wanted to just say no and hurt her the way that she had hurt his pride. He wanted to lash out on her the same way he had lashed out on the security guard downstairs. To make her feel the same shame she had put him through. But he didn’t. Instead, he told the truth.

“I could have.”

Her breath caught. “Could have?”

Takumi didn’t speak. His fingers only hovered above the scratch in his dark brown sofa, wondering if they would relax and try to rub it out with his natural skin’s oils, or clench to add more scratches to the soft, supple leather?

“And now?” Nana asked.

He did neither. His hand fell limply to his lap. “What do you think?”

The seconds of silence were endless. The only sounds were those of her shuddering breaths and the clinks of ice from Takumi’s empty glass. He had drank the whiskey faster than he should have. Takumi had talked longer than he should have. But he was just so tired. Too tired to find the strength to hang up. So instead, he waited for her to speak.

“Thank you for your honesty.”

She sounded broken. Too broken for someone who should be in a happy relationship with her new boyfriend. 

And then, like a flash of paparazzi lightbulb, his mind blinked to their last conversation. Could she be pregnant? It was a thought that had flitted in and out of his mind the last few weeks, but it only dangled in the corner of his conscious—like a holiday decoration that had been forgotten to be put away. Nana had denied it profusely, so the thought should have just erased. But it was still there. It would make sense— why else would she be calling him? But it would be an inconvenience of unseemly proportions. 

Or would it?

The other part of his mind, the one focused in the far future instead of the immediate present, remind him of his conventional wish to have a pretty wife and sweet daughter. True, this desire had at least a five year hold on it before he wanted to cash it in.  Nana was selfish, unreliable, and overly dependent. But she could cook. She supported his work. And she was an amazing lover. Not just physically, although that was good too. It was how she could make him feel afterwards—how it seemed she would never ask more from him than he would be able to give. But was that true? Was his image of her in his mind even remotely true?

“Wait Nana,” he said, his tongue desperately trying to catch up with the new direction his mind had taken him. “What’s—?“

“Goodbye Takumi. I hope…,” her voice cracked and Takumi’s own throat caught on something. “…I hope you will be happy.”

The phone went dead before Takumi could speak.


	4. Nana

 

**Later that Night**

When Ren came back to the bathroom, his face was clouded. Or thoughtful. Or hungry. Hell, she wasn’t a face reader. But she knew something was up because he had that pervy smirk on his face before he had left to answer his phone that had gone to voicemail three times in a row. Now, as he closed the door behind him and looked down at Nana soaking in the tub, there was a distinct lack of appreciation for her naked body.

“Something up?” Nana asked.

“Yeah.”

He stripped out of his clothes and accessories, removing everything but his piercings and chain-locked necklace. Nana scooted forward and relaxed back into his chest once he had settled into his cast iron tub. Ren had tried getting a bathtub like the one they had back at the warehouse, but it was still bigger than what they were used to. He started soaping up a loofa, his mind clearly distracted as he missed the netted bundle and instead squeezed the lemongrass soap onto her shoulder. She flicked a bit of the gel off her shoulder and onto his chest. Ren only blinked, still not quite snapping out of whatever trance he was stuck in. Nana rolled her eyes and stole the loofa, rubbing it on her soap laden shoulder. She worked it into a lather and motioned him to turn around so his back was facing her. He smiled, but it still lacked that depraved curl that sent her hormones over the edge.

He sat still as she rubbed his skin softly with the foaming ball of soap; the epitome of a model bather. Normally, Nana only scrubbed his upper back clean. Anytime she tried cleaning his neck, arms, or lower back, it would flip a switch and send him attacking her in the water. Not that she resisted. In fact, she knew what places were the best hot spots to send him groaning into her arms. But even the skin behind his ear did nothing when she pressed the sponge against it in whisper soft strokes.

“Everything okay?”She asked.

Ren turned in the tub, now facing her. “How’s Hachiko?”

That was unexpected. Her libido dropped almost immediately. Why the hell Ren was thinking of her roommate? In the bathtub. While she was naked.

“She’s been staying at Junko’s the last few days.” She shrugged as though the question and her answer didn’t bother her. But it did. And it bugged Nobu. And the rest of Blast, who hadn’t seen her since the fireworks nearly a week ago. “Why? You’re not thinking of stealing my pet are you?”

She expected Ren’s easy laugh or maybe even a grope of her breast to reassure her he only had eyes for her. But instead, he just shifted and asked, “Has she been feeling all right?”

“Okay, who the hell called you?” Nana asked, throwing the loofa in the tub in exasperation.

“Takumi.”

Well, things at least made sense, even though she was still pissed off. She flipped her hair and tried laughing. “Did you know that jackoff came to the apartment tonight? I knew he was a womanizer, but I didn’t think he’d be like a selfish brat at a candy store.”

“He’s not usually,” Ren said, his eyes staring at the ball of soap now floating between them in the water. “I think he loves her.”

She whirled away from him in the tub, feigning disgust, but really she moved to hide the sudden pain her chest and accompanying sharp breath. Her eyes had opened so wide that she was in danger of having them dry out if she didn’t blink soon. Her heart rocketed in staccato beats. Her hands begin rubbing her arms furiously, as if to keep the nerve endings from leaping off her arms. The bathroom became darker. Damn it! Why did this have to happen now?

“So what…” Nana gasped and masked it by splashing water on her face. “What did the dickhead have to say?”

The water moved as Ren’s legs and arms suddenly wrapped around her body. He pressed his hands on her chest. Not lewdly, like usual, but gently, resting against her vibrating skin. When he started to breath deeply and evenly, Nana knew was trying to help calm her down. She resisted at first, trying to pull away from him, but he was too firm and she was too weak. Eventually, she surrendered and followed his lead, forcing her chest to rise and fall at the same tempo as his. By the time her heart rate was back to normal, the water had turned lukewarm.

“Better?” he asked, his lips whispering against her neck.

She nodded, pretending not to resent his assistance. “Yeah.”

Things hadn’t been that bad for a long time. Not since she was back in her hometown. It had been rough those first few weeks without Ren, but she had been given a choice. It wasn’t a good choice, living with him like some domesticated pet or pursing her own passions, but it was still something she had a modicum of control over. But this, whatever she had with Hachi, was so far beyond her comfort zone. Everyone else—Yasu, Ren, Nobu—they all wanted something from her. Her music. Or in Ren’s case, her body. But Hachi… it was Nana who wanted something from her and didn’t have anything in return to offer. Nothing that mattered anyway - half of the apartment rent, free tickets to their shows, a homemade table. What good were those sort of things, really?

She had been happy to convince Ren to introduce Takumi to Hachi, as she felt like she finally had something to give back to the roommate who had given her a life of love and peace that she always sought growing up. But Takumi had turned into something far bigger then what she wanted or could have anticipated. Once again, Trapnest stole one of the most important people in her life. It had been gift from the Demon Lord when Hachi had fallen out of love with Takumi and in love with Nobu. It meant that once again, in some inadvertent way, that Nana had something to offer Hachi through her short list of friends and Nobu wouldn’t take her away like Trapnest would. So many things had been falling into place lately, what with Nana and Nobu, the record label, and Ren. It was too good to be true; too good to be true for someone like Nana, anyway. If she were honest with herself, she might admit that she expected some sort of complication to happen, because nothing this good could last for long. And because she knew that Ren wouldn’t have gotten this serious over Takumi simply confessing his love for Hachi, she braced herself and turned back to face him.

“So what does the asshole want?”

Ren’s eyes scanned hers and she glared back, as if daring him to bring up what had just happened in the tub. He better not been thinking she was too delicate. He grabbed the floating loofa and her arm, soaping it gently and holding her wrist firmly as she tried to yank it away. He rubbed the ball in soft circles up to her elbow as he finally said, “Takumi thinks Hachi is pregnant with his kid.”

Her body froze, leaving Nana only able to watch Ren in wide eyes as he carefully cleaned her off.

***

Nana’s hair was still wet by the time she made it to Junko’s. Well, by the time _they_ made it to Junko’s; the train had stopped running after midnight and she was too stingy to get a cab. It had been awkward ducking into his lap so the paparazzi wouldn’t catch them, but it brought a sense of comfort back to the situation. Ren’s perverted nature had taken over as he placed a hand over Nana’s head and lifted up his pelvis slightly into her cheek. She smiled now in satisfaction at the hand still rubbing the arm she had punched as they walked up Junko’s apartment stairs. And before Nana could ring the doorbell, Hachi flung open the door.

“Nana,” Hachi said, her eyes wide with surprise despite Nana’s earlier phone call warning that she was coming over. Her eyes widened further when she saw Ren give a lazy wave from behind.

“Nana?” Junko’s voice called from inside. When Hachi looked behind her, panic now filling her eyes, Nana realized that she hadn’t warned her that Ren would be coming with.

“Told you we should have waited,” Ren whispered, this time dodging her fist aimed for his other arm.

“Don’t just stand out there, come… whoa.”

Junko had come to the door, but stood transfixed at Ren’s not too subtle attempt to blend in with the masses, which for him, meant his normal clothes with the addition of a baseball cap. Idiot. Junko’s tan face slowly got red and her arms crossed awkwardly across her body, no doubt realizing she was standing in a pajama robe in front of a famous rock star.

Nana gave Junko her best stage smile and asked innocently, “Can we come in?”

As Hachi and Junko stood agape, Kyosuke came over. He looked at Nana and nodded. Then repeated the same motion to Ren. He pointed a thumb behind him and asked the famous Trapnest guitarist as if it were an everyday normal thing, “Want a beer?”

“Sure,” Ren replied easily, stepping across the threshold, leaving Nana laughing awkwardly while rubbing her wet hair.

“Sorry, I should have—“

“That’s okay,” Junko said, finding her voice and composure. “That’s… uh, okay.”

Once everyone had a beer (except Hachi, who had a juice) and was seated at the table (except Ren, who insisted the counter was fine), Junko and Hachi looked normal again. Well, almost. Junko kept looking at Hachi with a concerned look on her face and Hachi kept avoiding Nana’s eyes. Shit. Nana had hoped Takumi’s guess had been a product of a “wronged” ex-boyfriend’s imagination. But with the juice, pale face, downcast eyes… well, it didn’t look good. Nana took a breath, trying to calm the hinting ache in her chest. And since Nana wasn’t known for her tact, she just came out and said, “Takumi thinks you’re pregnant with his kid. Is that true?”

Tears welled in the corner of Hachi’s eyes and Nana knew the truth before she whispered, “Yes.”

“But she cut it off for good with him,” Junko added immediately, almost proudly.

“You mean when you broke up with him last month?” Nana asked.

“Tonight,” Kyosuke said. “She did good.”

Unable to help herself, Nana stretch across the table and placed her hands desperately around the glass of juice Hachi was holding. “Are you sure it isn’t Nobu’s?”

Hachi turned red, staring at Nana then the two boys. Kyosuke stood up from the chair and walked over to Ren. “I think they got a rerun of last night’s game on TV.”

“What, like baseball?” Ren asked, clueless as always about sports, but stood up to follow anyway.

“Hell if I know,” Kyosuke shrugged as they left the kitchen.

Junko let out a huge breath once they had left and then stared at Nana disapprovingly. “Really?”

“I said I’m sorry,” Nana winced.

“You bring the most popular guitarist in the country to my apartment and don’t think to warn me?”

“Oops?”

Luckily, Hachi sniffled, saving Nana from the oncoming lecture no doubt ready to leave Junko’s lips. “Sorry. Priorities,” Junko said, turning her body to focus on Hachi instead of Nana.

“Nobu used protection and Takumi…” Hachi trailed off and Nana scrunched her beer can, sending the barely drunk contents onto the paint stained kitchen table.

“Sorry,” Nana said, standing the same time Junko did to grab a towel.

“It’s fine,” Junko reassured. She smirked and added, “I broke a plate when I found out.”

This was so messed up. Nana desperately wanted to ask “when” not “if” she was going to get an abortion. If it was her body, she wouldn’t hesitate, and she actually like Ren; who knew how Nana felt about Takumi these days. But Nana only lifted her beer can as Junko wiped the spilled contents off the table and asked, “What are you going to do?”

Hachi didn’t burst out into tears or go into a cationic state like she half-expected. She was still broken and sad, but she seemed to stand with a purpose as she went to the counter where Ren had been sitting. She returned with several brochures.

“There are a lot of programs out there that help stupid girls like me,” she tried to smile, but her face was so watery that the effect was heartbreaking instead of reassuring. “I can get signed up for government assistance and there’s this daycare not far from Junko’s. It works with this charity organization that sponsors women who are broke and single.”

Nana resisted the urge to pat Hachi on the head and give her a treat. Or to to give Junko a full out kiss on the lips. She would have never guessed Hachi would seek the route of doing it on her own, and she guessed that Junko and Kyosuke’s influence this past week had a lot to do with this decision. She grinned widely and inappropriately to the ladies across the table. But it faltered when Hachi started crying. Not just silent tears, but honest to the Demon Lord gut wrenching sobs. Jesus. Where had that come from?

“You have a plan,” Junko said, the words echoing like a practiced mantra. “And you know your mom will let you move back home if you need to.”

Hachi only cried harder and lifted her feet up into the chair so she could hide her face in her knees. Nana finally realized why. She had said “broke and single”. She hadn’t told Nobu and probably assumed he would break up with her. And… well, seven floors of steps probably wasn’t the best thing for expecting mothers, was it? Nana’s hands begin to shake, so she chugged a few gulps of beer. The victory of Hachi officially telling Takumi off felt hallow now. What was the point if it meant Nana wouldn’t be able to stay in Tokyo with everyone?

Nana finished the beer and set it down with a resolution. No. She would call Yasu tomorrow. Yasu would know what to do. Hell, he probably knew more about these government programs then what was written in the pamphlets. And women in the mountains had babies all the time (she assumed). What’s wrong with stairs? And if it got to be a problem, Yasu, Nobu, and Shin could carry Hachi up and down the stairs. There, she had a solution too.

“Are you sure you don’t want to find a closer daycare?” Nana subtly asked. “I mean, aren’t their similar options in our neighborhood?”

Hachi’s head popped up from her knees and elbows, making her look far younger than her twenty years. Her eyes were still full of tears, but they had a different glimmer to them. Hopeful? Or maybe hesitant? Or hell, maybe it was just hungry. Like she said, she wasn’t a damn face reader.

“You… you don’t want me to leave?”

Nana couldn’t resist patting Hachi on the head this time and she laughed as best she could.

“Idiot,” Nana said affectionally.

Hachi burst into fresh sobs again and dove into Nana’s arms.

Eventually, Ren and Kyosuke made it back into the kitchen once Hachi’s tears had slowed and Junko began nagging her to drink some grapefruit juice. It seemed like the boys had found some documentary of the Loch Ness monster on TV instead of the game, and were discussing going to Scotland to try and find it themselves.

“But we’ll be smart about it and use night vision equipment,” Ren said, nodding his head importantly.

“And we can rent a boat instead of getting a charter,” Kyosuke added with a strong point of the finger.

“Good call man.”

Idiots.

Nana smiled and asked Ren, “Will you please punch Takumi in the dick next time you see him?”

“If my arm still works,” he replied, revolving it experimentally.

She stood up from the table. “Well let’s get going.” She bowed her head slightly to Junko and Kyosuke. They were kind of like Hachi’s second set of parents; it only seemed appropriate to leave on a note of respect. “Sorry to have kept you up. Thank you for taking care of her.” Then she stood up straight and winked at Hachi, “Call me when you come back to the apartment.”

As they walked to door and stepped outside, Nana heard Junko’s voice go up an octave as she asked right after the door closed. “Wait. Takumi? As in Trapnest’s Takumi?!”

Oops.


	5. Nobu

 

**Two Days Later**

It was five o’clock in the mooring when Nobu’s phone went off. But it didn’t just ring. It blared a pitch that would make even a deaf man yelp. Nobu jumped out of bed, his legs and arms still tangled in the sheets as he desperately tried to find his cell phone. Could a person’s heart stop from being woken up so abruptly? Why the hell was it so loud?

And why the hell did is sound like a fire station’s whistle!?

His cell phone was suspiciously wedged in his bookcase in carton of magazines. As he plucked it out and finally pressed the side mute button, another noise filled his apartment. From the lump of blankets in the middle of the room, Shin’s laughter escaped as he shuddered under the fabric. Nobu rubbed his eyes, still fairly confused from the abrupt shift from dreams to reality. But as he held the phone to his ear and he answered the phone, he was awake enough to resolve to kill Shin afterwards.

Well, first he would have Shin change his phone back to normal.

Then he would kill him.

His eyes were too fuzzy to read the caller ID, so he just said, “Hello?” His voice was so thick, he had to clear his throat and say it two more times before it actually came out as a recognizable word.

“Come to the apartment before work today, would you?”

Damn that cat queen. Nobu closed his eyes to ward off the light coming from the cell phone. At the same time, he walked to the middle of the floor and kicked the snickering pile of blankets. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“If you can get someone to cover your shift at the record store, do it.”

He tripped over Shin’s outstretched foot and tripped into his bed. Brat. “Okay… but why…?”

“Just do it.”

And then she hung up.

Nobu groaned and half-heartedly gave Shin a final shove with his foot as he crawled back into bed. At least he would get to sleep for a few more hours. He pulled his comforter over his t-shirt and boxer clad body, already being pulled back into unconsciousness. But just as he felt his mind slip away into his dreams, his phone rang again, restarting his heart to rival the sped of a hummingbird’s. The fuzziness had disappeared from his eyes so he was able to read the caller ID.

“Damn it Shin!” Nobu threw a pillow at the floor. The ringing stopped.

“Thanks,” Shin said, spooning into the chucked pillow like a lover. Clearly, Nobu would not be getting it back.

Damn it.

***

It was eight o’clock when he finally made it to the top floor of Nana and Hachi’s apartment. He rubbed his stiff neck, having been forced to sleep without a pillow for the last two hours. Shin, of course, decided to tag along—saying he wouldn’t reprogram Nobu’s phone back to normal until he had some of Hachi’s food for breakfast. Grudgingly, he let the brat follow. He would have changed the phone himself, but Shin had changed its language from Japanese to English.

Bastard.

When they knocked on the door, Nana was there; her eyes rimmed from a sleepless night and her perfume consisting of the strong coffee she carried. Her eyes narrowed at Shin. “Why are you here?”

“You guys can’t hog Hachi,” Shin said, entering the apartment without permission.

Nobu scratched his head, worried at the lack of breakfast he smelled. Crap. Now his phone would be stuck in English and high whistle rings forever. Maybe Yasu could change it for him at rehearsal tonight? Regardless, his eyes perked up once he entered, anxiously looking for Hachi. She was sitting at the table; a glass of pink juice in her strawberry cup sat before her. She smiled gently at Shin, who practically skipped over to greet her. A warm feeling spread from Nobu’s chest to his fingers—a sensation that happened every time he looked at Hachi. It was almost embarrassing how much he loved her; almost shameful how much disbelief he had that she was his. He walked over to the booth, feeling lighter than he had for days.

But his feet suddenly got heavy when Nana looked up toward him, but couldn’t seem to meet his eyes.

“—So now, if you call him, he gets so freaked out that he jumps around like a squirrel.”

“That wasn’t very nice,” Hachi reprimanded Shin, but her tone was off. Almost robotic. Shin must have sensed the same thing as Nobu, because he titled his head and asked if something was wrong.

“Try calling Nobu,” Shin added. “It’ll cheer you up.”

“When’s the last time you had a bath?” Nana asked, suddenly walking to Shin’s side to place an arm over his shoulder.

“Yesterday… Why—?”

“You smell. You should take another.” And without waiting for so much as a nod, Nana used her surprising amount of upper body strength to drag Shin into the bathroom.

“I don’t think Ren will approve,” Shin said seductively, before the door closed. Nobu was happy to hear the sound of a punch hitting its mark. But he couldn’t laugh. Clearly, Nana had wanted to give them space, but why?

Once he heard the sound of bathwater being run, Nobu decided to momentarily ignore the tension and kiss Hachi. At first, her lips were frozen and he pulled back slightly, more alarmed then ever. Then suddenly, she stood up and threw her arms around him, kissing Nobu with more passion that he could ever recall; more than their first kiss; more than the first time they had made love. Something was definitely wrong, but it had been days since Nobu had last seen her, and he couldn’t help but respond just as desperately. He wrapped his arms around her tightly as his lips melded onto hers, doing his best to feel that sense of connection he had been craving all week.

“Ahem,” Nana said, stepping out of the bathroom. She gave Hachi a stern look that turned quickly sympathetic. Nobu didn’t realize why until he saw Hachi’s cheeks streaked with tears.

“What’s going on?” Nobu asked, feeling like he was going to be sick without knowing why.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Nana gave a long hard look to Nobu before she stepped into her bedroom. “Nobu just… try to understand.”

Nobu wanted to be angry that clearly something was going on that concerned him that Nana knew about before him, but he didn’t have it in him. Because despite everything about Nobu—including his naivety, lack of confidence, and constantly being the butt of jokes—he was intuitive. And he knew, _knew_ , that whatever Hachi had to say was big. Too big.

He let her stand on her own, even though he desperately wanted to gather her in his arms again and bury her crying face into the comfort of his chest. But he also knew that if he held her, he wouldn’t be able to let go. Because as long as she was in his arms, she was his. And the same feeling that told him that whatever was going to be said was scary big, was also the same thing that told him by the end of this conversation, he might not be able to call her his again.

“Just tell me,” he said once the bath water had stopped running. Nana began singing from her bedroom to make up for the lack of noise. Nobu was grateful, but Hachi just kept crying. And her cries only became louder once Nana started singing the same song from the first night he had arrived in Tokyo. Nobu’s strength dissolved then and he finally drew her into his arms.

“Please,” he said, his voice a strangled rasp.

She hiccuped and mumbled into his shirt.

“What was that?” he asked, holding her more tightly; his arms contradicting his words wishes.

“I’m pregnant,” she choked out.

At first, Nobu was confused. A heavy splash of water echoed from the bathroom, as if someone had slipped. Nana stopped singing for a moment, before continuing on, louder than before. Nobu’s arms were frozen.

“But… we used…”

Then his mind attained clarity.

“Takumi,” he said.

It’s not a question like he wanted it to be.

Hachi could barely breathe from how hard she was crying. Nobu’s arms started to slack the same time she started squeezing the life from his chest. It took Nobu maybe several minutes before he realized Hachi’s sobs were actually words and not just incoherent sounds of grief. When he looked down, he felt separated from the situation. She smelled of grapefruit juice. Her skin was clammy. The top of her hair was wet. And it took him another few minutes to realize that her hair was wet because of him. He didn’t know how long he had been crying.

“Please, believe me. Please!”

Nobu’s arms had fallen to his sides at some point. He looked at Hachi again, never knowing he could feel so… broken. He tried hard to decipher Hachi’s sob laced words.

“I meant it, when I said I left him. I was faithful. I meant it. Please, even if you hate me, believe that. I meant it. Please.”

She was so earnest, that Nobu did believe her. Truly he did. And while it did help bring him back, it didn’t mend the rip inside him. But if he was torn, she was shredded. And even now, he put her own feelings before his.

“I believe you,” he whispered, somehow finding the strength to put his lifeless arms around her once again.

They stayed like that for a long time. Shin snuck out of the bathroom and went straight into Nana’s room. And all the while, through their awkward breaths and desperate embrace, Nana’s voice kept singing, filling their crumbling space with her voice.

***

He had left her there. They hadn’t resolved anything. It was more like that had put a pause on the moment to come back to later. Nobu hadn’t found someone to take his shift, so he still had to go back to work at ten o’clock. In the train, Shin had wordlessly changed his phone back to normal. Before the stop for the record store came, Shin said he was going to go back to the apartment.

“Maybe clean up a bit,” he added with a shrug.

Nobu thought he smiled. Maybe Shin wasn’t a total brat.

At work, Nobu’s boss had to yell at him twice, which was a big deal considering this was the same woman whose reaction when a box of records had broke and the shipment company refused to take responsibility, was to shrug and use the jagged shards for decoration. Eventually, she pulled him aside and told him to go home early. He insisted he could work the rest of the shift without being, as she called it, “zombie catatonic”. She shoved him out the back door and said, “Just untie whatever kink is knotted up that head of yours and be back tomorrow.”

Nobu eventually accepted her offer. Once she slammed the door in his face.

When he got to the train station, he looked at the signs, wondering if he should take the southward bound route to Nana’s or the eastern bound to his apartment. He stood there for an hour. When the lunch hour came, a swarm of people came down from the streets and forced his decision. Eventually, his body got pushed in the direction toward the eastern bound train. When he got on, he spent the entire ride with his head cradled in his arms, frustrated that he couldn’t even find the courage to make the choice of what train to get on.

He exited the station and began walking toward his apartment. He passed a few blocks before he realized a black SUV was right behind him, following him slowly. Embarrassed that he had held up traffic, Nobu quickly stepped to the side of the road and motioned for the car to pass. Instead, the SUV pulled over the side of the road and parked right next to him. When the tinted door opened, Nobu wasn’t even surprised to find it was Takumi.

Nobu turned away from the long haired bastard and kept walking to his apartment.

“Come now. Is that any way to treat the man whose girlfriend you stole?”

The lifelessness that had been plaguing Nobu began to seep out of him. His fingers cracked as he clenched his fist. His eyes became hot. His jaw, stiff. but still he kept walking.

The bastard’s long legs caught up to Nobu easily. He took of his sunglasses and nodded to Nobu congenially. “So how are things going?”

Nobu gnawed his lip.

“I hear our Nana has been sick these past few days.”

Without even knowing how it happened, Nobu punched him in the face. The asshole, of course, didn’t even stumble, but rage had fueled Nobu’s skinny arms to at least make Takumi’s head snap. The words “our Nana” kept echoing in Nobu’s eardrums. He wanted to punch him again, but instead, he just kept walking.

“She’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Takumi called at his back.

_Just keep walking_ , Nobu repeated over and over in his head. He bit down on his lip even harder, hoping to draw blood. But when his lip got wet, all he tasted were salt and water.

“If she is, I’ll recognize it as my own.”

Nobu’s feet finally froze. He didn’t turn to look back at Takumi, who was no doubt right behind him. But he was stuck in this vortex. How did this happen? He loved Hachi. Hachi loved him. Things were supposed to be simple. Why did things have to get so messy? Why did she have to sleep with this asshole? What was the right thing to do? What did he want to do?

Eventually, his feet moved again. But Takumi had to add once last thing before he let Nobu go.

“Even if it’s yours, I’ll recognize it as my own.”

When he got to his apartment, he unlocked the door. He took his shoes off in the entryway. He looked at Shin, currently cleaning the pile of dishes in the sink. He nodded in response to whatever Shin said. And when he walked into the freshly scrubbed bathroom, he threw up in the toilet.


	6. Hachi

**One Week Later**

Hachi sat in her empty apartment, staring at the phone laying on the kitchen table. It had been turned off for a week. She knew she was being selfish. But every time she almost built up the courage to press the power button on, a wave of despair or nausea would hit. This morning, she had gone as far as withdrawing the pink cell phone from her dress pocket—a fashionable frock with frills and flowers, but with a sturdy fabric that could stand a thorough washing in case she got sick. This was the day, she had promised herself. But still, all she could do was stare.

A knock pounded at the door, making Hachi jump. She stood up with shaking knees. Takumi had taken it upon himself to show up at irregular moments. Thankfully, her friends had run interference on her behalf. But today, Nana had work and band practice, and Junko had class. Hachi would be alone until after her doctor’s appointment.

“Who’s there?” she finally asked when the door knocked a second time. _Demon God,_ Hachi thought, _don’t let it be Takumi_.

A voice she entirely did not expect, but absolutely recognized said, “Your driver.”

Not quite believing her ears, Nana opened the door. Sure enough, Ren Honjo—lead guitarist of Trapnest and mega superstar—stood in the hallway, leaning against her doorframe. He was dressed in a thick scarf, shades, ripped blue jeans, and a long comfy grey shirt. He also wore a baseball cap, which did nothing to hide his identity.

“But… why… how…?” Hachi stammered. 

“Nana sent me.” Ren lazily pushed off the doorframe. “You got a doctor’s appointment, right?”

Hachi turned away, her cheeks flooding with heat and embarrassment. “I can take the train. I’m sure you have important things to do for Trapnest.”

He yawned and stretch his arms. “Nothing is going on with the band until tonight. But I’m just dropping you off. Kyo will pick you up.”

“Kyo? You mean Kyosuke?”

Ren grinned as he rotated his shoulders and stretch his neck. “Yeah, but he hates it when I call him Kyo. You need to grab anything before we head out?”

“Umm.” Hachi looked around, flustered now not only at the idea of a famous rockstar driving her to the free clinic gynecologist, but at the idea of the same famous rockstar becoming friends with Junko’s boyfriend. Maybe they really would go to Scotland together to find the Loch Ness Monster. She ran to her bedroom to grab her purse. And at the last minute, she grabbed her phone off the table and slid it into her dress pocket. “Ready when you are.”

***

The drive was a short distance, but the traffic was thick with the lunch hour rush. The longer they waited at stop lights, the more apologetic Hachi became. “I’m so sorry. If you just let me out, I could walk the rest of the way." 

“It’s fine,” he said, with the same calm voice he used for the entire drive. Without changing his tone, he added, “Nana says you’ve been avoiding Nobu.”

Unsure what to say to such a direct statement, Hachi stared at her lap. Her phone seemed to pulse like a live beacon in her dress pocket.

Ren turned down the car stereo, making the Sex Pistol’s screams turn quiet. “Are you going to break up with him?” Ren asked, giving her a side-long glance.

She shook her head profusely.

“Then why the radio silence?”

The car inched forward at the green light, but they were only able to move by one car length until the light turned red. Ren tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as Hachi felt tears burning in her head. She bit her lip. No. She was sick of crying. She had been doing nothing but crying for the past two weeks. She cleared her throat, and carefully chose her words. 

“My life… it was moving so fast.” Hachi clutched the soft leather of her purse, digging her fingernails into the pink and green flower pattern. “Before I found out about… all of this, I was loving my life. I lived in this cute apartment with my new best friend. I found a job perfect for my personality. And I had…” Hachi swallowed hard, “I had the best boyfriend I’ve ever had in my entire life." 

“But what does that have to do with not calling Nobu?”

“He’s going to break up with me,” Hachi said. When Ren gave her a compassionate look, she turned to the window to hide her ugly crying face. “I know I can’t stop it from happening. I know I’m being selfish. But I just want to be ready when he does, you know? Like, I want to say the perfect words. And tell him that I understand. And how much he means to me. So I turned my phone off so I could wait until I was ready. But every time I think I’m ready to talk, I just… I can’t.”

The car moved forward again, this time able to move through the next set of green lights. The clinic was only a few blocks away. Ren gave her a considering look once the car came to a stop.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

A small part of Hachi screamed out like a fangirl, which she quickly squashed. Her cheeks heated as she said, “Yes.”

“I’m not a genius like all the magazines make me out to be.” Hachi wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t this. He laughed gently at her confused look. “I don’t write songs in a single burst of inspiration. It takes days. Sometimes even months. I once wrote a phrase back when I lived with Nana that I only just found a connecting bridge to last week.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t wait for the perfect time to sort your feelings. Start writing things down. Practice. That way, when the time comes, you won’t have to rely on a single burst of inspiration." 

“… Practice, huh?"

He shrugged. “Then again, what do I know?”

She shook her head and clenched her fists in front of her chest, facing him with determined belief. “You must know something. You and Nana are my role model relationship! Your love is like a perfect fairytale.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Trust me, our love life is no fairytale.”

She sniffed. “Yes it is, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

Ren turned, and within a few minutes they had arrived to the clinic. Suddenly shy again, she gave him a tentative smile. “Thanks for driving me. 

“Sure. Just do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

She gave him the best smile she could and lied, “I’ll try.”

***

By that night, Hachi had three pieces of notebook paper stolen from the Doctor’s office, five ripped sheets of sketchbook paper from Kyosuke and Junko, and ten spiral bound pages of her puppy notepad filled with scratched-out ideas on what she could possibly say to Nobu. At first, she had tried to write little speeches, but they all came across as formal and stiff. Next, she did a bunch of what Kyosuke called “free-writing.” None of the mumbo-jumbo she wrote was readable, but it sparked a few ideas. When Junko dropped her off back home, she sat at the kitchen table until the fading daylight forced her to turn on the overhead kitchen light. Next, she wrote her thoughts out like a play, where she would write her line, and then scrawl in Nobu’s inevitable replies. But that just made her cry and why oh why did she even bother with mascara any more? In the end, she came up with a list of five things she needed to communicate in some way to Nobu. Only after that was Hachi able to lay down her pen from her cramped hand in relief.

Exhausted, she looked over to the clock hanging on the wall. Nana should be home any minute. Sliding out of the booth, she went to the fridge. At the smell of leftover Jackson burgers, curry, and miso soup, Hachi’s stomach begin to turn. But when she looked at Junko’s vegetables, her stomach made a new noise. A growl. She had gotten a new prescription of anti-nausea pills today, which she hoped would work. She was so sick of grapefruit juice.

Taking a chance, she cut up a tomato and cucumber, and lightly seasoned them. Steeling herself, she took a bite of the lightly salted heirloom tomato. Her eyes closed in bliss as the sweet, acidic tang filled her mouth and she hummed in contentment when she swallowed and felt no negative reflex. Carefully, she took a cucumber and nibbled at the corner. The cool refreshing bite tinged with dill tickled her tongue and she nearly cried when she swallowed and again felt no nausea. When she finished her plate, it was as if a new Hachi had been born. She had gone on juice cleanses and crash diets before, but never had she been unable to eat food for so long. Energy flowed through her body and Hachi regretted every negative word she ever said about calories. She’d be happy getting fat—as long as she never feel so empty, sick, and tired again.

_This turn of good health is a sign from the Demon Lord,_ she determined. So after she cleaned her dishes, she pulled her phone from her dress pocket and turned it on. As the screen loaded, she took deep breaths and sat at the table, ready with her puppy notepad and her list of five things. A minute later, her phone flooded with texts and voicemails. She could see the majority of them were from Nobu. But she didn’t read a single one, less she lose her resolve. So instead, she brought up Nobu’s name on the contact list and pressed send.

Before the first ring could even jingle, there was a muffled knock at the door. Hachi quickly threw her phone back in her dress pocket. She’d call Nobu later when she was alone in her room. She grabbed her notepad as she stepped away from the table. “Is that you, Nana?” She’d been coming home lately with full hands, usually with grapefruit juice for Hachi, a takeout meal for herself, and of course her guitar. “I told you I could have taken the train to the doctor’s appointment, Nana. You didn’t have to send–”

But it wasn’t Nana she found behind the door. It was Takumi. Standing calm and collected as always, with shades hiding his eyes.

She clutched her puppy notebook so hard she felt the wire spiral dig into her palm. Ren had said he had plans with Trapnest tonight, so she hadn’t thought there was any risk of Takumi showing up. That’s why she had Junko drop her off instead of staying with her until Nana arrived. She took an instinctive step backward. “What are you doing here?” She whispered.

“We need to talk, Nana.”

She shook her head and moved to close the door. “No, we don’t.”

He slapped the door to keep it open. “We both know the child is mine.”

She looked away. While it was true that there was a very small possibility the child could be Nobu’s, Junko had talked her out of that mindset, calling it a harmful fantasy. She took a deep breath, wishing she wasn’t so bad at confrontations. “Yes. That’s probably true.” Hachi swallowed hard. Why couldn’t she be as strong as Junko or Nana? “But as I am no longer dating you,” Hachi said, reciting the words that Junko had engraved into her brain, “I am not obligated to talk to you.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.” And for the first time, Hachi really looked at him. She could see now that his suit, while high quality and fashionable as always, was rumpled. His hair looked dull. And when he took off his sunglasses to return her gaze, she could see his eyes were heavy with bruised circles and bags. Something in her heart constricted when he stepped toward her and said in a low voice, “Hachi, I want to do this right. I want to be my child’s father.”

Hachi stepped backwards again. “But we broke up.”

His eyes narrowed briefly before returning to his collected state. “So you say.”

“What about Trapnest?”

“I don’t have to choose between my music and a family.” With a wry smile, he added, “It’s not like I haven’t practiced balancing both, the way Ren, Reira, and Naoki act like children.”

“Stop it,” Hachi whispered.

He stepped so close to her, she could smell his aftershave lotion that reminded her of Christmas. “Hachi, I want to do this. I want to raise our child together. We could be married by—”

“Stop saying what I want to hear!” She finally cried, pushing him against the chest.

“Why?” Takumi said, his anger slowly starting to ignite. He grabbed her wrist to stop her pushing and forced her face to look up at him. “I’m trying to do the right thing here. Why can’t you accept that?”

“Because you don’t love me.”

“But you love me,” Takumi said, grabbing her chin possessively. “And I know, that in time, I can come to love you and forgive you of your mistakes.”

When his thumb started to stroke her cheek, Hachi’s strength begin to ebb. She leaned into the touch, not realizing how much she had craved the tender touch of a man. Yes, Junko and Nana were there for her. They held and comforted her as best they could. But Hachi missed this tenderness. And even though she was sure Takumi was just manipulating her, she couldn’t help but take a small comfort from it.

“Please, Nana,” He said, his eyes hypnotizing her with their intensity. “I want this.”

She closed her eyes to stop his spell and took a deep breath. “I would love to have you a part of our baby’s life.” Takumi’s eyes glimmered as he leaned down to kiss her. Hachi turned her face away. “But you’re wrong to think I’m still in love with you.”

His hand dropped away. “Nobu?” he asked flatly.

“Nobu,” she agreed with a whisper.

He shook his head. “His jealously would consume him. Your relationship won’t last.”

"I know,” she said. “I’ve been preparing for him to break up with me all day.” She wiped her eyes and lifted up the puppy notepad, still clutched in her hand. “I’ve even written a list of what I want to say… But even with him—hey!”

Takumi ripped the notepad away and with a judgmental lift of his brow, he began to recite the list that had taken her hours to pin down. “One, I understand why you want to leave and I don’t resent you for it. Two, I’m happy we got to be together, if only for a little while. Three, you made me realize what a healthy relationship looks like. Four, I hope we can still be friends. And five…” Takumi finally paused. And then, after a long moment, he dropped his hand and flatly finished, “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.”

She looked down. “I know you think I’m being stupid. And you’re right, I probably am. It’ll be hard, being alone with a baby. But I am allowed to be selfish with my heart. And I want to be with someone who loves me, not out of any obligation, but because of who I am.”

Takumi dropped the notepad. And when he spoke, there was a tension in his voice she had never heard before. A tension that made his tone seem higher pitched and close to breaking into something either heartbreaking or violent. “I wouldn’t be here if it was simply ‘obligation.’ I’m rich, Nana. I could _easily_ support you and our child from a distance for the rest of my life. I’m here because…” He shook his head, and his smile was one of self disgust. “You’re inside me. When I’ve had a rough day, it’s your fingers I imagine running through my hair. When I’m stressed out, I think of sitting on your kitchen floor and eating tomato slices. I care for you and I want to be there for you and our child.”

She was so close to giving in. So close to breaking. But she held fast to the memory of the phone call she had made with Junko by her side. “But you don’t love me.”

His laugh was a ruined, scratched record. “Fuck, Nana—you cheated on me! I can’t just let that go!”

With the softest tone she could muster, less she make him break, she said, “And I can’t let go of how I feel for Nobu.”

The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Takumi looked lost, but Hachi felt like she finally found a missing part of herself. A part she could be proud of. But it didn’t feel good. Because another part of her still wanted to gather Takumi into her arms and comfort and love him the way he so desperately wanted, maybe even deserved. But she had to follow her heart. She wouldn’t be Hachi if she did anything less.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “For everything. But you can still be a part of our child’s life. You can still be her father.”

“How gracious of you,” he spat, his venomous tone betrayed by his shaking fingers as he put his sunglasses back on. He opened the door. “I give it a month. One month before you call me and admit that you made a mistake.”

“Takumi—”

He slammed the door. Hard enough to make the plate and fork drying beside the sink to rattle against each other. In a numb haze, Hachi walked to her bedroom and sunk into her pillows. Had she really just done that? Had she really not given in? A small bubble of laughter escaped through her lips. A minute later, it turned into sobs.

One wet pillowcase later, Hachi heard the door to the apartment unlock. Hachi sighed, grateful she wouldn’t have to open it. She should go out there and talk to Nana about what had happened, but she was so tired and so sick of crying. So instead, she burrowed into her blankets and resolved not to come out until morning.

When the door to her bedroom opened, Hachi didn’t even turn to say hello and feigned sleep. She realized the ploy was useless when Nana sat down on the bed and laid next to her. When Nana curled her arm around Hachi’s blanket covered waist, Hachi reached out to touch her friend’s hand. But it wasn’t the polished tips of her roommate she felt. It was the calloused, warm fingers of a man she never thought she’d touch again.

“Nobu,” She gasped. She scrambled, desperate to get out from under the blankets, desperate to see his face. The tight grip of his arm, however, kept her in place.

“Shh, just wait,” he whispered so close to her ear she could feel his heat. He smelled like sweat and Black Stone cigarettes—no doubt from living with Shin. She closed her eyes, determined to savor these last few touches before he inevitably left her forever.

She took a deep breath, ready to start her list “Nobu, I—”

“Hachi, I want you to know five things.”

Her lungs forgot to breath. “Huh?”

“Number one, I understand why you didn’t call and I don’t resent you for it. Two, I’m happy we _are_ together, and I look forward to continue being together.” Hachi started to cry, and for the first time all day, she didn’t hate herself for their presence. Nobu rubbed her arm, and starting speaking a bit louder to make himself heard over her sobs. “Three you are the best girlfriend I’ve ever had. Four, no, we can’t just be friends. And five,” Hachi felt herself being turned over where she finally met Nobu’s brown eyes, also filled with tears. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.”

As he wiped away her tears, Hachi struggled to speak, so jumbled was all the emotions inside of her. “How did you know?”

“You called me.” At her confused look, he pulled out his cell-phone. The screen showed a current call from her that had been active for over an hour. She struggled under the sheets and pulled out her mobile. Sure enough, her phone was still connected to Nobu’s. The fabric of her dress must have caught between the number pad and screen, preventing it from snapping shut and ending the call.

She looked at him in confused wonder. “But… don’t you want to break up with me?”

He kissed her on the forehead and she sighed under the warmth of his lips. “Hachi, I’m not perfect. When you told me, I reacted like a shithead. I… I honestly thought you would go back to Takumi. I’m sorry. Please forgive me for ever thinking that.”

She shook her head, “I understand. I mean, the timing of everything being the way it was.” She sniffed loudly and then said with a broken, yet proud laugh. “But I didn’t go back to him. I stayed strong. I followed my heart.”

“And you’re sure you want me?” He said, the smile on his face betrayed by the doubt in his eyes.

“I should be asking you that,” she said. And although she hated saying it, in fear of breaking this wonderful fragile moment, she didn’t want to dread it’s eventual resurface. “We both know I’m pregnant with Takumi’s child. I love you, but I’m a mess. A train wreck waiting to happen.”

He nodded, breathing deeply. “Yes. And it’s going to be hard for me, especially if he’s going to become a part of your life—even if it’s only to be the kid’s dad.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and Hachi melted. “But I love you. So this ‘mess,’ as you put it… it’s worth it.”

Then he cupped her cheek and finally, _finally_ , leaned down to kiss her. It wasn’t perfect. It was full of tears, clashing teeth, and misplaced breaths. Even so, it filled the hole which had been hiding in Hachi’s heart ever since she became certain she would lose him. No, not filled. Overfilled. And in that moment, all her doubt disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All that's left is Ren's epilogue!


	7. Epilogue - Ren

**1 Year and 8 Months Later**

Most people thought Ren was well-adjusted. The kind of guy you could depend on. The kind of guy who wouldn’t cause unnecessary drama.

Ren liked to think that was mostly true. Like when Nana admitted her anxiety was tearing her apart, Ren hugged her and vowed he would help however he could. Or when Takumi started breaking stuff in the studio when Hachi and Nobu announced their engagement, Ren calmly stepped in front of him before Takumi threw a stool through the recording booth’s window. And when Hachi had gone into labor when he was driving her to her final checkup, Ren got on the phone with her doctor and kept him updated on Hachi’s contractions during high traffic. By all accounts, he was one chill dude.

Except when it came to his godson.

Before, it had been hard when Nana told him she had no intentions of having children. True, she had always said that, but Ren figured one day it would pass and her maternal instincts would finally kick in. Only when she told him again the same day she admitted she needed help, Ren realized it was no temporary mindset. He didn’t talk about it with her, not while she was healing. He obsessed alone every time his mind wasn’t distracted. At times, the obsessive thoughts got to be too much and drugs had seemed to be an easy way to solve things. It had taken Nana finding him high in the bathroom before he finally admitted he was devastated with the idea of not having any children. Nana, being Nana, tried breaking up with him to give him that freedom. And in that moment, he realized he had a simple choice. Was Nana more important than having children?

The answer was, unequivocally, yes.

Having a simple answer replaced the obsession in his head and filled him with a calm he never realized he was missing in his relationship with Nana. He had always thought their intense passion would define them. But with both of them admitting big truths and having neither run away from it, they could come together in a way that hadn’t been possible before. It was still hot, still full of moments that would make Nana blush if Ren recounted the right memory softly in her ear. But he didn’t feel like every day with her was like his last on Earth anymore. Despite his rocker aesthetic, he clung to this new security more preciously, and though she wouldn’t admit it, he knew Nana felt the same.

Still, when Hachi asked Ren and Nana to be godparents (along with Junko and Kyosuke), his reaction had been anything but chill. He had been holding baby Goro when Takumi and Nana had asked him. He knew it was a token formality. That if in the tragic event Takumi and Nana and Nobu kicked the bucket, baby Goro would probably go to Nana’s parents. But in that moment, Ren didn’t think about that. All he could focus on was this little dude in his arms, a child who came from his small group of friends, and that he was being asked to take a role in raising him. That door he thought he closed months ago with Nana suddenly opened again and he began to cry.

From that day forward, if baby Goro wasn’t with Mom or Dad, everyone’s natural assumption was to check in with Uncle Ren. He showered the little dude with Sex Pistols onesies, rubber studded chewing rings, and even a tiny leather jacket. He played him songs on his guitar, belly crawled on the floor with him, and fed him Nana’s miso soup (which Ren admittedly had to thin quite a bit until it wasn’t too salty). Nana had been a bit insecure again when she saw how happy baby Goro made him.

“Honestly, I’m afraid if I hold him too long or smile too wide, you’re going to take it as a hint that I want to be a mom and we’ll have to go through our shitty conversation all over again.” Nana admitted, as she watched Ren bounce baby Goro on his hip.

Ren pulled her to him and tilted her chin so her nose touched his. “All I want is what I have.”

Like a magnet, he fell to her lips as Nana pulled down on his hair. “You sure?” She whispered.

He grabbed her butt and pulled her toward him meaningfully. “Oh yeah. I’m sure.”

She bit her lip and pushed him away. “Not while you’re holding the baby, pervert.” But her smile was back and that was what mattered.

* * *

Today was Goro’s birthday. Nana had agreed to it being hosted at new Takumi’s house, which had a spacious backyard located just a few miles outside the Tokyo prefecture. By the time Ren and Nana showed up, everyone was there. Hachi’s family were already in the backyard, setting up chairs and food while Hachi’s sister’s children played. Nearly everyone else was in the living room talking. Nana joined them, but Ren stayed in the entryway, his eyes darting back and forth.

“He’s in the kitchen with Takumi,” Hachi said, who had been in the process of showing her engagement ring to Junko. Nobu stood behind, looking proud and awkward as Hachi flashed her modest diamond at anyone who would look.

After setting down his pile of presents at the already overfilled gift table, Ren went off to the kitchen. Inside, he found Takumi, Kyosuke, and, of course, the little dude.

“Ren!” Goro squirmed in Takumi’s arms like a puppy, reaching for Ren with chubby fingers. “Ren! Ren!”

“Okay, okay,” Takumi said, a bit grudgingly. He set down Goro on the linoleum floor, who immediately and furiously crawled to Ren.

With a laugh, Ren bent over to pick him up. “Hey , Go-Go!” Ren tossed him into the air, making Goro laugh and scream with delight.

“Please don’t make my son throw up before he has his cake,” Takumi said drily, going to the fridge.

“Better before than after, right?” Kyosuke said, smiling as he drank the same brand a beer Takumi now had.

Takumi arched a brow. “I’m so glad I agreed to you two being my child’s godfathers.”

Ren grinned widely and settled Goro above his shoulders. He could already feel the little dude’s drool soaking into his hair, but he didn’t care. Takumi shook his head.

Ren thought fatherhood suited Takumi. He was always a caregiver, what with the way he had taken care of Trapnest over the years. But his temper, which had always easily flared during their tight tour schedules and recording sessions, had tapered off into annoyance and cutting insults. Big things could still set him off, like Nana’s engagement announcement last week, but overall his patience had grown. It’s a fact made all the more obvious when Ren started a pony ride with Goro around the kitchen, only to have the little dude throw up on his head.

Kyosuke laughed as he pulled the still giggling Goro off Ren’s shoulders. Takumi wetted a towel and threw it at the sheepish Ren. But instead of chewing him out, Takumi only smirked and said, “You’ll be explaining to his mother why his suit got dirty.”

“To be fair, who dresses up their kid in a suit for his first birthday?” Ren asked as he dabbed at his hair and face and the top parts of his shirt. Thank the Demon Lord he wore black.

“Your girlfriend’s girlfriend, that’s who,” Kyosuke winked, doing his best to clean off Goro over the kitchen sink as Takumi drank his beer with a cocky expression.

* * *

Things tensed when the entire party shifted out to the backyard. Nana and Takumi had reached an understanding of sorts over the last year, a truce made all the more apparent as the two of them and Goro took smiling pictures together (but not before Hachi chewed Ren out over the state of her son’s vintage-looking baby suit with fake suspenders). Hachi’s mom merrily clicked away on her clunky digital camera, then waved in Nobu to join. Takumi outright refused to take a picture with him, despite Hachi’s and her mother’s pleas. Instead, he shot Nobu the darkest glare before whispering something in his ear. The rest of the pictures featured a red-faced Nobu, a strained Hachi, and a pouting Goro. 

Presents weren’t better. Through some odd coincidence (or knowing Takumi, very thorough investigating), all of Takumi’s presents to the little dude were the same as Nobu’s, but higher quality and more expensive. Nobu got him one plushy dinosaur; Takumi got him five. Nobu got him a picture book; Takumi got him the same book signed by the author. Nobu got him a DVD of his favorite tv show; Takumi got him the entire series gold box edition. It’s catty, which Ren thought suited Takumi (despite his objections that he was anything _but_ catty). Fortunately Goro seemed unaware of the feud in front of him, and was frankly more interested in opening gifts than the actual gifts themselves.

_Unfortunately_ , Hachi was a little less immune and stalked off once Takumi and Nobu started escalating their silent fight to verbal levels. Nana was quick to yell at Takumi before running after Hachi to comfort her (although, now thanks to Kyosuke, Ren can’t help but imagine Nana comforting Hachi in a very special way. A very sexy way. “Girlfriend’s girlfriend,” indeed).

By the end of the presents and cake and after Hachi’s family left, everyone seemed a bit exhausted by the unresolved tension in the air. The two bands split off, with Trapnest at the outside patio table and the Black Stones inside the house. The little dude got traded on-and-off between the two groups and Ren and Kyosuke were his runners. It was hard, every time the group got together like this. But no one complained. Not even Reira, who had gone silent and sullen for a month after hearing Takumi was to be a father. Everyone knew how much Nana and Takumi wanted to make it work and nobody had it in their hearts to skip out on these decidedly awkward reunions.

It was dusk and the crickets were starting to sing when Goro started getting fussy and asking for Hachi. Ren had Naoki take over his spot in the game of cards they were playing, and wordlessly took the little dude from Takumi’s lap to carry him inside. But after he crossed the threshold and Goro smushed his face into Ren’s slightly stained t-shirt, he stopped. Instead of going to the living room where murmurs and laughter leaked, he went into the quieter hallway. Goro was still a little fussy, so Ren began to hum. Not any actual songs, but soothing notes and rhythms that reminded him of his bass guitar days. Eventually, Goro squirms settled and not too long after, Ren had a sleeping tyke in his arms.

“I thought I heard someone out here.”

Ren looked up to see Hachi leaning into the hallway, with a soft smile pointed to the bundle in his arms. Ren pressed his cheek against Goro’s soft brown hair. “Little dude got tired.”

“I don’t blame him. It’s been a tiring day.” Hachi’s smile was a limp thing and he could see that the day had taken a lot out of her. Well, if he was being honest, he knew this entire situation took a lot of her. But despite the constant presence of dark rings under her eyes and bickers from the two most important men in her life, she never complained, which was a far cry from the days she blamed the Demon Lord on everything.

“You doing okay?” Ren asked, as he began to slowly rock Goro in his arms.

She sighed and leaned against the hallway wall. “They’re never going to get along, will they?”

He shrugged. “Never is a long time.”

“It’s almost been two years.”

Ren didn’t say anything to that. He was never the type of person to ramble off comforting words. Because despite living for music and Nana (who was as much entwined with the concept of music as his guitar in his mind), he valued silence. The world and his head had a way of filling with too much noise. Sometimes, the best thing you could do for someone was give them an empty space.

They stand out in the hall for a long time. Only his low hums and the swish of his clothes filled the air. It was a peaceful moment, all centering around the little dude in his arms.

“You’d make a wonderful father.” Hachi whispered.

That comment stung for many reasons. One, it proved Nana had yet to open up to Hachi. For another, it needled at him as though trying to make a healed wound hurt again. But when Ren studied Hachi, he knew what she was truly asking of him and he was glad to give it.

“ _You_ are a wonderful mother.” He said back.

She pushed off against the wall and walked to him. Or more accurately, walked to Goro, who her eyes never left. “You think so?” She stroked the little dude’s chubby cheek. “I sometimes think I made all this a lot harder than it should have been.”

He gently knocked her with a swaying elbow. “But you’re happy, right?”

She bent over to kiss Goro’s forehead and Ren easily transferred the little dude to her arms. Only when Goro settled back into sleep does she finally answer. “Yes. I’m happy.”

Another noise entered the hallway. Ren looked up to see Nana peeking in from where Hachi had come from. A warmth spread into his chest as he caught the hidden smile on Nana’s lips before she ducked away to give them privacy. He turned to Hachi and then looked at the little dude who had done so much to fill so many holes in so many lives, all by just being there and being with them.

“Then the mess is worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! It's finally finished! Thank you to everyone who read, commented, and gave kudos. I wrote this story to get some closure on one of my favorite manga series and I hope it does the same for others. If we're truly lucky, Ai Yazawa will one day return back to these characters and give them the ending they deserve.
> 
> Black Stones Forever!
> 
> ~Chloe


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